Bars where Pete has had a Drink (3,476 bars; 1,545 bars in Seattle) - Click titles below for Lists:

Bars where Pete has had a drink

Monday, December 22, 2014

From purely a bar perspective there's not a lot to recommend this place; but if you want to have a beer from a pretty decent selection, along with a huge mess of crawfish -- the kind where people wear plastic gloves and lobster bibs -- I don't know of a better place in the city. The place is brightly lit, with cheesy Mardi Gras and seafaring decor, and the chef, who is from Vietnam by way of Louisiana, knows his stuff and is happy to come chat with you to help you figure out your optimal meal. I myself tend to stick with the somewhat introverted Catfish or Soft-shell Crab Po' Boy, but I encourage others to go crazy.

"And sure, the weird, toothless guy who spends the night undressing you with his eyes and drives that big rape van parked out back; he's there too. Marv's has an endless amount of oddly appealing, and slightly creepy, customers."

"Just try not to get shot."

The place that is now Marv's Broiler was built in 1941 by H. Richard Busey as Busey's XXX Drive-In. It was an old Triple X Root Beer drive-in, not the sort of XXX place like the shops across 16th Avenue. Busey ran it as a drive-in until 1955 and then converted it into a dine-in restaurant with a small bar area, and locals remember it for its marinated steaks. In 1975 Busey sold the place to Marv Mosely, who took control on New Years day, 1976. Marv apparently considered replacing the sign, but eventually decided to simply update it with his name. Marv no longer owns it, but it retains the name. Under Mosely, the lounge side of the business continually expanded until, as is the case today, there is no restaurant left at all. It now has the drinks, the vibe, and the patrons of an old mid-century dive, seeming perpetually locked at a time a couple hours after the kitchen has closed with a last few stragglers remain nursing drinks.

You won't find the City Hall Saloon while driving to someplace else. It's about 25 east of Tacoma as the crow flies, but if you're not a crow, you'll have to take some backroads. There in the unincorporated old coal mining community of Cumberland, amidst the Cascade foothills, the old, barn-red, two-story building that the locals call "the community center" rises above a large beer garden with various mannequins, vintage signs, and biker paraphernalia.

City Hall Saloon, Cumberland, WA

On Taco Thursday you'll find 500+ bikers there. Inside at the bar you'll find mostly retired white people, yelling insults at one another. There's Ed, and Dirk, who has not one but two three-legged dogs, and Richard, who invested in Microsoft early and now takes care of the electric bill for the place. There's Old Bill -- and you have to be OLD to be Old Someone in this bar -- who was presented medals and flags by a younger vet, but wanted another flag because it only had 48 stars when he served. There's the bartender who makes purses to commemorate stories, like the time her boyfriend was upset that she wouldn't let him drive her jeep without a license and shot the bouquet of plastic flowers someone left on the porch.

City Hall Saloon, Cumberland, WA

One guy recalls when the place was "Carolyn's," and how Carolyn would print up mimeographed song lyrics and the whole bar would sing. I ask if the current owners are here and I'm told "Only when they're thirsty." At one point someone yells out "Safety Meeting!" and a bunch of the patrons trundle outside, taking a break from the beers pulled out of icy drums to partake in another form of unbending. There aren't that many people outside on this damp Friday evening, but in the warmer months there is live music 5 nights a week.

It is, in summary, a very fine bar, but it is clear that, as raucous as the small crowd inside may be, we still have not seen the joint in its prime time. We will definitely have to return on a Taco Thursday, and to listen to some bands on a warm Friday

Saturday, December 20, 2014

In the 1880s, the Black Diamond Coal Mining Company left it's operation in Nortonville, CA for the richer coal of the Washington state town that still bears its name. The company brought with it a few thousand of the European immigrant workers, and operated in the area until just after World War I. In the early 30s a couple new mining companies revived mining in the area, and it was about this time that Richard "Boots" Pierotti, who once worked in the mines and later the company store, opened his tavern.

Boots Tavern, Black Diamond, WA

Hanging in the bar today -- and featured on the Black Diamond History blog -- there is a King County Assessor photograph of the Boots Tavern labeled 1939, featuring a Boots Tavern sign. JoAnne M. of the Black Diamond Historical Society informed me that portions of the buildings in this area were constructed in 1918, 1936 (at least the front portion of the current tavern), and 1939. In Black Diamond: Mining the Memories, Boots himself recalls hearing in 1935 that they were going to stop giving out beer parlor licenses and that he finally obtained one in 1936. The Tavern was the first new business after the depression, and Boots had to install his own waterline from the water main near the Coal Car, and had to buy a small generator to get any electricity.

Today the tavern is a nifty local dive and community gathering place -- the kind of bar that has potluck dinners during Seahawks games, Buckup games on Saturdays, barbecues, tributes to deceased patrons, and various other special events where customers are as involved as the bar staff. We chatted with regulars Debbie and Bob, who made sure we checked out the inside doors of the bathrooms, and informed us of another great bar to check out next, City Hall in Cumberland. It was a very enjoyable visit and we look forward to coming back from time to time.

Inside of door to women's room at the
Boots Tavern, in Black Diamond, WA

The Pla Mor is a long-time local dive in Maple Valley, a city of about 25,000 some ten miles east of SeaTac airport. It sits along a section of the Maple Valley Highway that splits residential areas from shopping centers, and manages to somehow maintain the feeling of a rural setting. The bar has been around a long time, but I do not know how long: The building was constructed right after prohibition (1933) and it's been the Pla Mor since at least the early 60s. "Fred DePasquale bought the Pla Mor for $24,000 in 1966 and sold two kinds of beer and wine, mostly to blue-collar workers, such as coal miners from Black Diamond, loggers and construction workers" (Seattle Times), and it's been in the DePasquale family ever since.

It is known for its fish tanks and two 18-pound piranhas, also featured in a funky mural along the front. It features fairly typical bar fare, though it touts it's affordable steaks. A long time local I met at another bar suggested it was best to go in the early afternoon, to see "drunk, middle-aged people fighting."

People who like dive bars will like it here. It has a fair amount of character and characters, and reminders of quite a lot of Washington state bar history in the form of bar tokens under the plexiglass bar counter.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Covington Washington is a small city of about 18,000 people, about 20 miles southeast of Seattle, with a retail core hugging state highway 516. It was incorporated only in 1997, largely as a defense against either "being annexed by Kent or being developed into oblivion by King County." (historylink) When the first Europeans arrived in the area in the 1850s, it was home to the 'Stkamish, Smulkamis, and Skopamish ... later, all three tribes would be lumped together under the name of other groups along the White and Green rivers, as "Muckleshoot."' (ibid) The Muckelshoot and Klickitat fought removal from their homes, killing nine settlers a few miles from present day Covington, but you know how that story went in the long run.

The area was first known to the white people as Jenkins Prairie, and later took the name of the Northern Pacific Railroad's surveyor, Richard Covington, who laid out a route known as the Palmer Cutoff, or in the code of the railroad's telegrams, "Rodent Frugality." Once almost entirely a bedroom community, the current conquerors are the strip malls and corporate chains. Since about 2000 the highway has been increasingly surrounded by the tribes of the Walmarts, Costcos, Home Depots, Targets and Applebees.

Nikki's is an exception to that. There aren't many places to have a drink in Covington. There are no taverns left, and although Nikki's is relatively new and more known for its breakfasts, it does have a sizable lounge that hosts live bands. Previously there was a Godfather's Pizza here for many years before the location eventually hosted the "272 Bar and Grill." But the 272 was too pricey for Covington, I was informed -- an observation I found echoed in just about every Yelp entry from the time -- and it became Nikki's in Dec. 2011. And while the space itself still doesn't have much character, the few people there on this lazy Friday afternoon did.

Bartender Jamie was explaining how her husband couldn't figure out how he had a hangover after having only 6 beers, though he also had 2 Irish Coffees and couldn't remember the number of jello shots. Customer Joe isn't content to just have jello shots at Nikki's, so he makes himself a bowl at home ("a shot is a table spoon"). Joe had recently come from a doctor visit ("No, my doctor's in old Renton -- you have to go armed"). Apparently Joe's doctor keeps telling him he needs to quit drinking but Joe told him "I run into more old drunks than old doctors." I was disappointed to find no old taverns in Covington, but more pleased to find at least a few old tavern kind of people.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

There's only a tiny little bar here, which you are unlikely to seek out for just a drink. But it is pleasant place to have a sip while waiting for some pretty good Vietnamese food from the Nguyen family what used to run Viet Chi downtown.

Sometimes it seems like Renee Erickson and I were just not mean to get along. Everybody else in Seattle seems to love, love, love Renee Erickson, but our tastes just seem doomed to an ill-fated relationship. So I was never blown away, as everyone else in this town seems to have been, by The Whale Wins, and I certainly do not wake up craving the octopus terrine at Barnacle that everybody else seems to love. It seems senseless to me that a civilization that has discovered fire and has access to bacon and blackberries should ever settle for scavenging the low tide for sustenance and serving it tartare. And that's not to mention considering it a great treat to receive a plate of razor slim octopus floating in a plate of olive oil. I don't even like oysters.

I could probably make a logically consistent argument for me tastes if I didn't love lobster and Dungeness crab so much, but that's beside the point, so don't tell Renee Erickson about that. And her brightly lit Barnacle Bar, the Italian apertivo squeezed into a hallway-shaped space adjacent Staple and Fancy, which looks like a kitchen set from a Martha Stewart program, is close to the opposite of my preferred bar decor. And finally, as if to rub sea salt in the wound, Erickson confessed to The Stranger that she loves Lays potato chips, sardines, Steely Dan, and Fleetwood Mac -- and she hates chili. How could I ever, ever be expected to get along with such a woman?

Barnacle Bar, Seattle

And yet she keeps seducing me back. The cocktails bartender Ria provided me at Barnacle Bar were lovely, and while much of Renee's menu reflects our dysfunctional relationship, there are always a few highly enticing treasures lying between the slimy creatures from the tidal pools, even if it means resorting to cheese tactics. . So yes, Renee, even as I escape to long chili binges and extended Lays potato chip fasts, God help me, you know I'll be back.

The Wooly Toad, a cigar and brandy lounge hidden up the stairs at Scott Oki's Newcastle Golf Course clubhouse, is perfect for those times you feel like sinking back in an overstuffed leather chair with a brandy, recalling war stories before discussing mergers and acquisitions after a brisk polo match, and literally looking down on the rest of the greater Bellevue-Seattle area from the crest of the area's old coal mines. It doesn't feel like it, but the club is public, and I recommend going at least once or twice a year even if you don't golf.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Country clubs and golf courses are an often overlooked option for just eating and drinking, and that is certainly true of Newcastle if one is in the mood for a casual but elegant setting with sweeping views of Lake Washington and its environs. The main restaurant is named for "calcutta" style wagering, not for Indian food -- it serves traditional American seafood and steaks in a semi-formal and simple way, ala, say, an Anthony's. The cocktails are pedestrian, but you're not here for culinary creativity or masterful craft cocktails, but rather for the sun, the grass, the views, and the formal service. And perhaps to daydream a bit like you're retired and living this every day.

Despite being in a shopping center lot, this bar used to have an interesting name ("Daverthumps") and a nautical theme to distinguish it from other bars. Currently they seem to be trying to squeeze out whatever character it once had and make it into a sort of bland karaoke/sports bar like virtually every other bar in Lynnwood. Thankfully, there are still vestiges of the old place around -- at least for now -- and it can be a friendly and lively place to watch Seahawks games.